


Impromptu Invitations

by xxDustNight88



Series: Holmes for the Holidays [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: But hey there's no angst in this one, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, Once again I can't keep a one-shot short to save my life, Past Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Romantic Fluff, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13169814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxDustNight88/pseuds/xxDustNight88
Summary: In which Hermione finds herself in need of an impromptu date and Sherlock obliges only for them to discover there might be more to their chance encounter than meets the eye.





	Impromptu Invitations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starrnobella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrnobella/gifts), [GaeilgeRua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaeilgeRua/gifts), [articcat621](https://archiveofourown.org/users/articcat621/gifts), [Squarepeg72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squarepeg72/gifts).



> So this is late, I know… And it also happens to be the last 'official' Holmes for the Holiday fic in the collection. (Although, Light the Way does have a Part II coming…) I hope that you've adored all these Sherlock and Hermione stories. It was a lot of fun writing these for all of my writer and reader friends. I'll be doing something similar next year too! Once the New Year hits, I also plan on finishing Nights in 221B, and possibly starting another Sherlock/Hermione tale. So much to look forward to! Anyway, enjoy this one and I can't wait to see what you have to say about it! Thank you to anyone who took the time to read and leave feedback of any kind!
> 
> Thank you to Rachael from W&B for beta reading this for me on such short notice and so quickly! I am eternally grateful to you! You're a doll! Much love, xxDustNight
> 
> Disclaimer: All non-original characters, plot points, and information belongs to J.K. Rowling, BBC, or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. I do not write for profit.
> 
> Written for my Bad Bitches who I couldn't survive this chaotic life without. Each and every one of you holds a special place in my heart and I love you ever so much. Whether it's about writing or real life, you all can always bring a smile to my face and make me feel like everything is going to be alright. You encourage me and lead me back when I go astray. I hope that I do the same for you and that you love this little tale I spun for you! xx
> 
> Prompt: Hermione and Sherlock find themselves in the ER as a result of a minor fender bender(?), on their way to a Christmas Party hosted by the local dignitaries. While there, Hermione discovers that her ex will be in attendance, a man she hasn't seen in well over three(?) years. Desperate to show she's moved on she invites Sherlock as her date in an effort to make it seem as though she's moved on. While at the party, Sherlock discovers a pair of holiday themed undergarments, which he decides to don in order to make the party a tad more interesting.
> 
> Song Recommendation: "Santa Tell Me" by Ariana Grande  
> [Holmes for the Holidays Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1246401351/playlist/1prfNYC9f8LMVVqPzgjs5l)

. . . .

" _Santa, tell me if you're really there._  
Don't make me fall in love again  
If he won't be here next year."  
\- Santa Tell Me, Ariana Grande

. . . .

"No, honestly. It was just a tap. I'm fine. I didn't even hit the ground that hard."

Unfortunately, the two men in the cab, as well as the cabbie, thought otherwise. Hermione frowned as she was ushered into the back of the cab she had accidentally walked out in front of, and in between the two passengers. One of which just so happened to be a doctor, or so he said. So with a defeated sigh, she allowed the doctor to buckle her in so they could take her to a hospital.

"Look, miss," the doctor began, his hand placed gently on the sleeve of her coat. "You really should get looked at. I know it may not have felt like a hard hit, but we were going rather fast."

Both she and the other passenger rolled their eyes, though she suspected her reasoning was rather different than his. She could have easily healed herself with magic if need be, but she couldn't really reveal that. Damned Muggles. She was going to be late for the insipid holiday party she was being forced to attend. Crossing her arms, she relaxed into the middle seat, knowing she was going to have to just deal for the time being.

They arrived at the hospital and both passengers joined her in the Emergency Room, the doctor explaining the situation to the ER nurse while the other watched her sit on the bed in irritation. She wanted to ask him what his problem was but before she could, the doctor returned to her side and began taking her vitals.

"What are you doing?" she asked, confused as he flashed a light in her eyes.

"I've been given permission to check you over myself."

"I don't even know who you are and like I said before, I'm fine." She blinked rapidly to clear the remainder of the light from her eyes as he moved on to check her for other injuries.

"I apologize, miss. I'm Doctor John Watson," he told her as he finally let go of her wrist. Smiling at her, he gestured over his shoulder to where the other passenger stood silent. "And this is Sherlock Holmes."

Hermione looked to the man and quirked an eyebrow. "Okay," she replied, grabbing for her purse. "Now, will you let me go? I'm not going to press charges or anything."

"John," the other man-Sherlock-spoke up finally. "She really does appear to be fine. Have you found any injuries?"

"No, but-"

"Then, I suggest you allow her to be on her way," Sherlock intoned, running a gloved hand through his tousled curls to get them out of his eyes. "We too have elsewhere to be this evening."

John gave Sherlock a annoyed look and then sighed. "Fine. Alright, miss you seem to be in working order." He gave her a crooked grin and then moved away from the hospital bed.

"Thank you-" she started to thank the doctor but her mobile went off in her bag. "Oh! Hold that thought." Quickly, she rummaged through her beaded purse in search of her mobile, trying to make it appear as if it wasn't magically enlarged. Finding the device, she answered the call. "Hello?"

" _Hermione?"_

"Yes, it's me. Harry, what is it?"

" _Where are you? You were supposed to be here almost an hour ago. Is everything alright?"_

"I'm fine," Hermione said, sighing and blatantly ignoring the fact that John and Sherlock were listening to her conversation. Biting her lip nervously, she added, "I'll be there soon. I got a bit…sidetracked."

" _Okay, well I'm glad you're fine, but there's something you should know."_

"What?" Hermione sat up a bit strigheter on the bed, brows furrowed at the serious tone Harry suddenly took on.

" _I don't know why, but...it's Draco. He's here."_

Her eyes closed, the memory of her ex-boyfriend hitting her harder than John and Sherlock's cab. Why?  _Why_  did he have to be at the party? He was supposed to be out of the country for at least two more years on some sort of recon work for the Ministry. Why in Merlin's name was he back on New Year's Eve of all nights, and to make things worse, attending the same party she was supposed to be at this very second?

" _Hermione? Hello? Did I lose you?"_

"No, Harry… It's… I'm here."

" _Are you… Are you still going to come because I totally understand if you've changed your mind and want to back out. I can take care of any fallout it causes."_

Exhaling, Hermione knew her presence wasn't truly  _required_ at the party, but when the reigning Minister for Magic suddenly didn't show up to the Prime Minister's New Year's celebration, it wouldn't look good. Damn politics and all that it entailed to keep the peace between their worlds. She had to go, old flames be damned.

"I'll be there, Harry. Just tell the Prime Minister I got caught up, is all. And for the love of Merl-" She glanced quickly at Sherlock and John, hoping they didn't catch her odd exclamation. "Just find out why he's back and do everything you can to make sure he and I don't bump into one another."

" _You got it. See you soon."_

The call ended and she tucked the mobile back into her bag before moving to stand from the bed. "I've got to go, but I do want to thank you, Dr. Watson, for taking care of me."

"Is everything okay?" John asked, removing his gloves and tossing them in the bin by the door. He gave Sherlock a side glance before crossing his arms.

"Yes, I'm fine." She cringed knowing how awful that sounded after saying it so many times. "Honestly, I'm just horribly late for this important party tonight and I've just found out someone I'm not too fond of will be in attendance."

"An ex-lover." Sherlock intoned, stepping away from the wall to stare down into her face. "I can tell by the way you keep patting at your hair." His eyes flicked over her curls and she slowly lowered her hand which had been about to pat down the tresses. "You've not seen him in a few years, if I'm correct."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the taller man, trying to discern how he knew this. "How do you-?"

"It's what he does," John explained with an insufferable sigh as he looked to the ceiling. "Come on, Sherlock. She doesn't have time for your deductions."

Intrigued now, Hermione finally gave Sherlock her full attention because  _obviously_  he'd been paying enough to her since they crossed paths. Holding up a hand to stop John's talking, she met Sherlock's gaze and smiled slowly. "It's fine Dr. Watson. I'm actually quite curious what else he can  _deduce_  about me tonight."

She was already late, what harm could a few more minutes do? Maybe it was the anxiety from having to deal with her ex, but she wanted to see what Sherlock could figure out about her. She hadn't recognized his name at first, but now… Now she recalled his work with Scotland Yard and finding all those criminals over the years. Yes, she was rather fascinated with him and couldn't wait to see if he could figure out who, or rather  _what_ , she was.

"You're in your late thirties, although you appear much younger. Whether that is from your genes or the use of anti-aging cosmetics, I'm uncertain. You're dressed in party clothes, but still your gown is far more formal than if you were attending a casual get together with friends. So you're going to a fancy New Year's Eve celebration, possibly even with dignitaries in attendance. However, you're not in a rush to get there, having chosen to walk rather than take a cab or private car. Even now, you linger here at the hospital instead of scurrying off to be with your friend."

"He's good," Hermione pointed when Sherlock finished speaking. She turned and gave John a smile, but he merely shook his head as if exasperated. Turning back to Sherlock, she smirked. "What are you doing tonight?"

"John and I have our own holiday party to get to," Sherlock answered without hesitation. Although, he did pause afterward and tilt his head as if trying to figure out why she would ask. Obviously catching something in her eye, he backed away and pulled his hands from the pockets of his long coat. "Oh no. No. Don't even ask."

"What?" John inquired glancing between the two, not understanding what silent communication had taken place. "What are you talking about?"

Sherlock simply kept shaking his head as Hermione's grin grew wider, a mischievous glint in her pretty brown eyes. "I realize that you have not seen your ex for quite some time and that you don't want to appear as  _pining_  or worse,  _alone_ , but I am not going to do it, so do not ask."

"Come on, it could be fun."

"Wait." John finally managed to catch onto what was happening. He laughed in a short burst that soon turned into something much more rolling.

"Honestly, John," Sherlock said, crossing his arms and glaring at his best friend. "You find this funny?"

"It's hilarious," he admitted, able to contain his laughter for a moment. "Of all people to be propositioned, it could only be you."

"What's wrong with me?" Sherlock immediately said on the defensive, face falling.

"Nothing," John replied, but couldn't keep the smile from his face. Behind Sherlock, Hermione rolled her eyes, enjoying how this was playing out in her favor. "You're just a bit…uptight, and not at all approachable about going on a date."

"I've dated."

"For a case, Sherlock." John pinched the bridge of his nose. "It was fake. Have you ever been on a real date? Ever?"

"To be fair," Hermione interjected, stepping forward with a finger raised before Sherlock could reply. "It wouldn't really be a real date either, just so I don't have to show up alone in front of my snot-nosed ex-boyfriend."

Sherlock and John looked at each other for another moment before John shrugged. "That's true, I guess, but you still should do it, Sherlock. Could be fun."

"Fun." He said the word as if it tasted sour, his mouth turned down in a frown. "I don't do fun."

"This party will be far from fun, so if that's what you're worried about…" Trailing off Hermione got a naughty idea. "I mean, you do owe me, after all. It was your cab that hit me and made me so late." She put on an angelic look, blinking up at Sherlock through her lashes.

John watched on in utter amazement as she conned Sherlock into being her date to this fancy-smancy New Year's Eve party. They had no idea who this woman was, let alone why she was obviously so flustered over the mere presence of her ex-boyfriend. "She has a point, Sherlock. We did hit her."

Throwing a dark look toward John before returning his gaze to the woman before him. "What purpose do I serve by attending this party with you?"

"Free dinner and you help me figure out why my ex has decided to come back into the country two years earlier than planned." Smiling knowing she was about to get what she wanted, Hermione quirked an eyebrow as if challenging Sherlock to say no again. "What do you say?"

"What about our plans," he asked John without looking away from the woman. She intrigued him, something about her not quite making sense. From the way she was dressed to the way she held herself screamed dignitary, but under all of that, she appeared to be just a regular person. Yet, there was something more. Something undefinable. Something, dare he say it,  _magical_. As much as he loathed the idea of going on an insipid  _date_ , he wanted to find out more about this mystery woman.

"Mrs. Hudson will understand."

"Fine." Sherlock gave into the game. Turning to John, he nodded once. "Don't wait up."

"I wouldn't dare," John quipped, stepping out of the way of the door.

"Excellent," Hermione all but cheered, rubbing her palms together and gathering her jacket and bag. Sherlock helped her into the coat and she offered him a radiant smile "Thank you."

"I don't even know your name," Sherlock pointed out, holding up his arm in defeat so that Hermione could loop hers through.

"It's Hermione. Hermione Granger, and I think you and I are going to have a lovely time tonight, Sherlock Holmes." Together, they left the hospital, Sherlock thinking of ways this could go wrong while Hermione imagined the stunned look on Draco's face when she walked in on the arm of the one and only Consulting Detective in all of the world.

* * *

 

To say Harry was surprised she'd brought a date was an understatement. Nevertheless, he was friendly and accomodating when Hermione arrived arm-in-arm with Sherlock. She'd spent the cab ride from the hospital to the event prepping him on the details, but she left out one major factor… That she was a witch and in charge of England's Wizarding community. To her defense, she thought as they stood uncomfortably together waiting for one or the other to start talking first, it never really came up…

With Harry taken care of, introducing Sherlock to the Prime Minister was easier than she'd planned, mostly because she already seemed to know who he was. With that taken care of, the two of them began to wander around the party, drinking wine and talking quietly as they grew to know one another a little better. Hermione discovered Sherlock lived with John and his daughter Rosie since the doctor's wife had died, and that together they helped solve crimes for Scotland Yard. Hermione, in turn, told Sherlock the bare minimum about herself and a brief background on Draco, as well. She was hoping there would be no reason to drop the big bomb.

That she was, in fact, a witch...

Suddenly, her eyes locked onto Draco's and he smirked, raising one hand to wave at her from across the ballroom. Swallowing, she returned the gesture and tried to offer him a small smile. He must have taken that as some sort of invitation because he handed off his empty wine glass and started making his way across the room toward where she stood with Sherlock. Panic stricken, Hermione turned away from his approaching form to grab hold of Sherlock's arm. He gave her an odd look, but quickly masked it when he saw Draco coming to join them. It was clear he understood who this person was and that they were about to put on a show for the man.

"I'm a witch," she whispered hurriedly behind her hand as Draco sauntered over toward the couple with a determined look on his pointed face. "And when I ran and was elected Minister for Magic, my boyfriend at the time became jealous and sort of broke things off. That's Draco. Sorry, I left that part out earlier." Glancing up at Sherlock to find him staring at her in disbelief, she shrugged one shoulder knowing she'd just thrown him for a loop. "Just go with it, okay? Draco is going to assume you know all about my world, so play along. I'll explain more later."

Before Sherlock could even think of a reply, Draco was before them, crossing his arms and giving them the most pretentious look possible. "Granger, I see you're doing well."

"Good evening, Draco," Hermione replied with as best a smile as possible. Placing her hand on Sherlock's arm, she added, "I wasn't aware you were returning to England so soon, let alone invited to this party."

"Yes, well, I imagine the work we do down in the Department of Mysteries remains unknown to even the  _Minister_  in some cases."

"Excuse me?" Sherlock started to break in, wanting to ask about the strange department Hermione's ex was referring to, but she cut him off before he could speak any further.

"Oh, I apologize. How rude of me." She patted Sherlock's arm and gave Draco a dazzling smile. "This is Sherlock Holmes. My boyfriend."

Instead of offering his hand in greeting, Draco looked Sherlock up and down in a bored manner. "I hadn't heard you were seeing someone, let alone a Muggle."

"It's fairly new," Hermione replied sweetly, giving Sherlock what she hoped was an adoring look. Subtly closing the space between their bodies, she leaned into his stiff form. "Isn't it, darling?"

Smirking, but knowing well enough to play along, Sherlock placed a hand on the small of her back to draw her closer. "New? Perhaps, but we both know this romance has been a long time coming."

"How so?" Draco asked, obviously not so keen on their supposed romance.

"Oh, well that's easy enough to figure out," Sherlock replied, sliding his hand just a smidgen lower on Hermione's back. The corner of his lip quirked a little higher when he felt her shiver at the touch. "The attraction between Hermione and I was immediate. It's almost as if fate brought us together, making sure that we  _hit_  it off at just the right moment."

Hermione couldn't contain the small giggle that bubbled out of her at that comment, or the warm feeling that was spreading through her from where Sherlock had his hand placed precariously low on her back. Any lower, and his large hand could cup her behind, easily. Leaning further into his embrace, she started to wonder if that would really be a bad thing. Sherlock was a lot more interesting and entertaining than she'd originally anticipated. Deciding she might as well play into this and see just how far he'd be willing to go, Hermione threw away all inhibitions.

"One would say you knocked me right off my feet, wouldn't they?" she asked, sliding up onto her tiptoes and wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. She saw the way Sherlock's eyes widened fractionally, realizing what she was about to do. Instead of waiting for her to make the move, he took the reigns and gave Draco the show of his life.

Sherlock's lips found hers and, for a second, she was thrown off guard all over again. The moment his lips met hers, she felt a spark like never before rock through her entire being. Immediately, she melted into his embrace, her mouth opening as Sherlock's tongue slid out to meet hers. Idly, in the back of her mind, Hermione knew as the Minister for Magic, she really shouldn't be making out so publicly, but right now she didn't care. Forgetting all about her ex-boyfriend and propriety, for that matter, Hermione kissed Sherlock Holmes for all she was worth. When they separated, breathlessly, they discovered Draco had snuck away.

"That was-"

"I'm sorry if-"

They both laughed at their antics, identical grins and blushes on their faces as they stared at one another. Hermione still had her arms around Sherlock's neck and he was still holding her flush against his much taller frame. Clearing her throat, Hermione averted her gaze briefly to try and get her heart to stop beating so erratically. It didn't much help, so she sighed and looked back up into Sherlock's face.

"Thank you, for the kiss."

"I was afraid I'd read too much into the moment," he admitted sheepishly.

"No, that was exactly what I planned on doing." She laughed a little, and then unwound her arms from his neck so she could take a step backward. She felt oddly cold now, and as Sherlock frowned and slid his hands into the pocket of his suit pants, she wondered if he felt the same.

"Would you like to get something to drink?" Sherlock asked, lifting his arm and smiling down at her as he waited for an answer.

"I would, actually," she replied, placing her hand on his arm and allowing him to lead her over to the refreshments. This was turning out to be quite an interesting evening, she thought as they made their way across the room. Looking around, she discovered she could no longer find Draco, but she did notice a few people glancing their way with amused grins on their faces. Clearly, Draco hadn't been the only audience to their surprisingly passionate kiss.

Later, as she was standing next to the punch bowl with her arms crossed, Hermione watched Sherlock schmoozing with the Prime Minister. Touching her lips with the fingertips of her right hand, she recalled how it felt to kiss him and how she wouldn't mind doing it again. And again. Damn it. This was just supposed to be a one off… A fake date to make Draco realize she wasn't still hung up on his stupid pompous arse. Was she insane to wish Sherlock was actually her boyfriend?

As she continued to contemplate the insanity of this evening, Harry sidled up to her, sipping a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He glanced at her face and then followed her gaze toward Sherlock before chuckling. "Having fun?"

"What do you think?" Hermione groused, giving her best friend a stern look that clearly indicated she was in no mood to play. He obviously missed that.

" _Sherlock_  seems to be having a good time," Harry pointed out before taking a sip of his drink. Swirling the cup so that the ice clinked, he added, "That kiss looked pretty convincing. Even I thought the two of you have been together for ages."

"Really?" Hermione pulled her attention away from the consulting detective. "I was afraid it might look a bit forced."

"No way," Harry said with a laugh. "Even the Prime Minister pointed out how much in love the two of you seemed to be, going so far as to ask when the wedding was going to take place. I guess she's looking for an invite."

"Oh, Good Godric," she replied, running a hand through her curls. This was really getting to be too much.

"Yeah, my sentiments exactly." They stood together in silence for a few minutes, Hermione's gaze returning to Sherlock's. She blushed when he caught her staring and gave her a secretive smile. Harry, also catching the look, sniggered behind his cup.

"Stop it," she hissed out the corner of her mouth. "It's not funny."

"It's a bit funny," he retorted, finishing his drink and then staring down at the lonely ice. "If it makes you feel any better, Draco was more than flustered over the entire thing. He left not long after the kiss happened."

"Really?" Hermione was surprised to hear this. "Did he say anything?"

"Not really, just that he couldn't stand to see you lowering your standards for some ridiculous Muggle." Harry paused, laughing and shaking his head. "You really did a number on him tonight."

"I just didn't want him to see me alone and assume I was still pining after him, is all." Hermione pursed her lips, suddenly irritated at the entire situation. Harry held up his hand.

"I know, and I'm not saying anything against it." Sighing, Harry ran the same hand through his hair. "I'm glad you're not with Draco, anyway. He wasn't good for you, even if he is a friend."

"Really? You never said anything before." Hermione gave her friend a playful slap on the arm.

"Not really my place, Hermione." Shrugging, he turned his gaze back to Sherlock, watching as he shook the Prime Minister's hand and then began his way back toward Hermione. "However, I will say this… Even though you brought him here just so you wouldn't have to be alone, Sherlock seems like a pretty decent guy. I think there might be something there you should definitely look into further." Patting his best friend on shoulder, Harry made to take his leave before Sherlock got there. "He likes you too. That kiss was a sure sign of it, and I wouldn't be surprised if the two of you showed up here next year as a  _real_  couple instead."

Unable to do anything besides gape at her friend's retreating back, Hermione barely registered when Sherlock slipped a hand around her waist and tugged her gently so she was now flush against him. Blinking rapidly to try and get her brain back on track, she tipped her head to stare into Sherlock's beautiful eyes. They were twinkling, with mischief most likely, and there was a smile gracing his thin lips. He gave her a little smirk and then dipped his head low so he could speak quietly into her ear.

"I think I managed to talk the Prime Minister into allowing us to sneak out of this stuffy party early," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear and making her shiver. She suspected he was doing this to keep up the illusion of their relationship, but a part of her sort of wished it were real. "How does that sound to you?"

Gripping the sleeves of his suit jacket tightly between her fingers, she continued to wordlessly stare up at him as she contemplated Harry's words. Was Harry right? Was there more to Sherlock than meets to eye? And would he even be open to getting to know her further considering she'd lied about who she really was? Deciding she wouldn't know if she never tried, and that being held in his arms felt fan-freaking-tastic, Hermione nodded. "I think I'd like that."

Sherlock's smirk widened into something of a real smile. "And I may be pushing my luck as I am entirely new to this sort of thing, but would you perhaps like to come back to my flat to ring in the New Year?"

"Oh…" Hermione felt her breath leave her in a rush of surprise, Harry's words ringing true in her head as she lost herself in his eyes. Quickly, she weighed the pros and cons, not wanting to find herself brokenhearted this time next year. But as she saw the flicker of uncertainty in Sherlock's eyes, she decided it might be worth the risk. "Sure, let's go."

Watching his face light up, she allowed him to take her hand and lead them through to the coat room. After they'd acquired their jackets, the two of them hurried from the building and Sherlock hailed a cab. In the backseat, Hermione tried not to appear as nervous as she was. Typically, she was not the type of witch to partake in one night stands, but something told her this was more than that. And as Sherlock tentatively reached across the backseat and intertwined their fingers, she had to admit that it was a definite possibility.

* * *

 

Sipping her glass of champagne, Hermione had to admit that 221B Baker Street certainly had its charm. As she stared out the front window of the flat, she thought back on earlier in the evening and wondered just how she'd managed to get to this point. Midnight had come and gone, John having gone upstairs to bed shortly after the clock struck twelve. Now, it was just her and Sherlock again, alone save for the skull on the mantle Hermione couldn't help but find charming.

Hearing Sherlock come up behind her, she turned around and placed a hand on his chest. He'd removed his suit jacket, the purple of his Oxford shirt rich and royal in the light filtering in from the streetlights below. Taking another sip of her bubbly beverage, she smiled warmly up at him. He looked nervous, his eyes roving over her face as if searching for a reason to hold back. She hoped that he found nothing that would push him away because if she were honest with herself, she wanted nothing more than dive in headfirst.

"You're really a witch," he said without question, one hand coming up so he could card fingers through hair curls.

Smiling, she'd wondered when this would come up again. Setting aside her mostly empty glass, she replaced it with her wand which had been hidden in a secret pocket of her gown. Holding it so he could see, she whispered, "I am. Would you like me to prove it? I'm not supposed to use magic in front of Muggles, but as Minister for Magic, I find some of the rules don't always apply to me."

"A Muggle is someone like me, I take it. Without magic."

Sherlock was clever, so she shouldn't have been surprised that he'd figured out the term so easily. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but be a little shocked how calm he was through her explanation. "It is, but it's not a bad thing. Both my parents are Muggles."

"That is fascinating…" He trailed off, his hand pausing in its mintrations to tip her head backward. He brought his face down so their lips were mere breaths apart. "What can you do with that magic wand?" he asked, voice low, so much so that it made her shiver in anticipation.

"This," she breathed out, trailing the tip down the front of his shirt. Her breathing hitched as each button on his shirt magically popped open, revealing his pale, muscular chest to her. When every last button was undone, she used her free hand to slide it from his shoulders so that it pooled on the floor at their feet. Pointing her wand at herself now, she enjoyed the way his eyes were alight with something akin to that of a child on Christmas morning. "I can also make my dress disappear entirely."

"No!" When she quirked an eyebrow at his sudden exclamation, he cleared his throat and clarified. "I want divest you of that gown. You can show me more of you magic later."

Blushing, Hermione nodded and then slipped the wand back into her pocket and rushed to close the space between them. Throwing herself into his arms, her lips eagerly sought out his. Sherlock kissed her with fervour, arms wrapping around her body. Kicking off her heels, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hopped into his arms. He caught her easily and began to carry her through to the bedroom.

Occasionally, he would stop to press her against the wall, pressing himself into her so that she knew just how much he wanted this. Merlin, how she wanted this too… Who would have thought? By the time he placed her back on her feet beside his bed, Hermione's body was thrumming with so much pent up desire, she thought she might burst into flame. True to her word, Hermione allowed Sherlock to remove her black gown.

He turned her around, one hand on her bare shoulder as the other unzipped the dress tantalizingly slow. As each new inch of bare skin was revealed, he placed a searing kiss along her spine. Her eyes closed to further enjoy the sensations he was evoking in her body, and as the silk fabric finally slithered down her body, she swayed on her feet. Sherlock pressed himself to her back, revealing that he too wore nothing but undergarments. She found solace in his sturdy embrace, his hands flat against her stomach as he pressed open mouth kisses to her naked shoulder.

Turning back around, she pressed both her hands to his chest and gently pushed him so that he fell back onto the bed. As he moved to the middle of the bed, she crawled atop his body and straddled his hips, eager to see him laid out before her. He truly was a beautiful specimen of a man, all long limbs and tight muscle from his many years of fighting crime. Unable to help herself, she trailed her fingers down his chest until they traced the band of his boxers. She met his burning gaze and couldn't help but to smile.

"What are these?" she inquired, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Sherlock was wearing green boxers with little red and white candy canes all over them.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, his head falling backward in apparent embarrassment. "John bought them for me as a joke this Christmas." He sighed in exasperation, afraid that their moment was ruined. That couldn't be further from the truth he soon realized as Hermione hooked her fingers in the elastic band and began slowly sliding them lower.

"You'll have to thank John later," Hermione quipped, her eyes playful as Sherlock's head snapped back up so he could see what she was doing. Lifting herself so she could remove the undergarments entirely from his body, she resettled herself at his hips and rocked slightly. This earned her a moan of appreciation. "I just so happen to adore candy canes."

Taking hold of Hermione's hips, Sherlock felt his cock grow ever harder as she continued to rock gently above him. "I'll make sure to do that." It was hard to think clearly with such a beautiful woman- _witch_ -before him.

Smiling down at Sherlock, Hermione knew she couldn't wait any longer for him to be inside of her, but she needed to know something first. Stilling her movements, she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss upon his lips. A bit breathless, she said, "Before we go any further, there's just something I need to know."

"What's that?" Sherlock inquired, stomach clenching with sudden worry. He hated feeling that way, preferring to appear sure of himself at all times, but this was different. Hermione was different, and he didn't want to screw this one up like he'd done with Irene in the past.

"I feel like there's something between us, Sherlock, something that I'm scared to admit might be bigger than either of us imagined when you agreed to be my date earlier this evening." Waiting for some sort of sign, she was thankful when he nodded for her to continue. "I don't want to mess that up by sleeping together right away and then just going our separate ways come the morning. So if you think that this could lead to something more between us, something substantial, then I'm yours. I'll open my heart to you and spend the night in your arms, if not… Tell me now so we can both be spared the heartache."

Taking Hermione by surprise, Sherlock quickly moved into a sitting position, both of his large hands cupping her face softly. "I realize that you and I know next to nothing about one another, but you should know that I am a man of my word, Hermione." He stopped here, sea-colored eyes boring into her chocolate colored ones with such intensity. "You have no reason to believe a word I say as most men in my position," he said swiftly, gesturing at his obvious arousal, "would say anything to get into your knickers, but I would like you to know that I can see myself falling for you in such a way that even I, myself, would be surprised."

Laughing lightly and shaking her head, Hermione decided that was answer enough. Clearly, Sherlock felt it too, whatever this intense feeling was between the two of them. It started back in the Emergency Room and had only intensified as the night grew later. Now, they were intertwined in each other's arms, ready to let go and open their hearts entirely. Kissing him soundly, Hermione let her actions speak for her now. Sherlock rolled them so she was now underneath his larger body, their kissing and touching almost frantic as they hurried to join their bodies.

So after divesting Hermione of her bra and knickers, Sherlock kissed her tenderly once more before sliding into her core. They both moaned at the feeling of completeness, their bodies fitting together ever so perfectly. They moved as one, making love in perfect harmony. If someone had told Hermione that this was how she was going to ring in the New Year, she would have laughed and asked if they'd started drinking early.

But here she was, staring into the eyes of the one and only Sherlock Holmes as he filled her body and soul, giving her life and love. Her heart swelled with affection and she felt her eyes tear up as he brought her to that glorious edge. Crying out his name, she fell apart in his arms. Sherlock followed behind shortly thereafter, his hips meeting hers at a frenzied pace. When it was all said and done, he wrapped her in his arms and allowed her to rest her head on his chest.

"Sherlock?" she asked quietly, almost certain he'd fallen asleep.

"Hmmm?" His reply came with a gentle sweep of his hand up and down her bare back. She shivered, but not from the chill of the room and snuggled closer to his warm body.

"This evening has been more than I could have asked for. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year…"

She planted a kiss on his chest and then allowed her eyes to close. As sleep took her, Hermione felt content knowing that this time next year, the possibility she and Sherlock would find themselves in exactly the same position was extremely high. And if that was the case, then this would be a wonderful New Year indeed.


End file.
